


Not Alone

by kyluxtrashcompactor



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 11:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6152276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyluxtrashcompactor/pseuds/kyluxtrashcompactor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux and Kylo are hovering on the brink of having lost everything, but they are not alone. (drabbles from Tumblr challenge - I'll fill in the challenge notes later)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Alone

The staccato of boot hills clicking matched his pulse: quick, heavy, and vibrating along the surface of his skin with each step. Ren had just come from a distasteful audience with Snoke, and the words from that disintegrating visage clung to the inside of his skull. He felt the vestige of his failures, even now forming scars upon his flesh. His cheek throbbed, singed and exposed nerves a perfect metaphor for his state of mind.

Ren did not know where he was going until he arrived, and came to an abrupt halt with his face inches from the door to Hux’s quarters. He sensed the general was within easily enough; it was like sensing an electrical storm. The hairs on the back of his neck stirred upright, and for a moment, fleeting, Kylo thought about turning away. He didn’t need further admonishment, for he was ever a fire which required no outsourced fuel.

Instead, he was drawn to the energy in the room, compelled by some internal barometer to reach up and push the com button to announce himself. The general would see him through the viewscreen. A second ticked by, then four, and then Kylo found his brow knitting with irritation. He smashed the button again.

“Open the door,” the Knight snapped. “Or I’ll open it myself.”

There was another pause while that sank in, the truth of it, and then the door slid open with a sound like a sigh of resignation.

Hux was standing before the massive flat screen read out that covered one wall of the general’s quarters aboard the Finalizer. At the moment, it displayed a view of a star system: not a window, for shipboard quarters were interior. Ren moved to stand behind and beside him, glancing at the system star data but not recognizing it. He opened his mouth to ask what they were looking at, for it was not their destination, but Hux seemed to sense his curiosity and stretched out one hand to trace the display, which shrank, morphed, and expanded once more into the schematics of the Starkiller base. It lay now in their wake, etnernal particulate in the ruins of a planet.

Hux tucked his hands behind his back as he stared at it, refusing to look at Ren. Kylo could feel the force field normally molded so still and solid about the general writhing, pulsing in emotion. His gaze lingered on the general’s hands, and on the thumb that compulsively, urgently dug into the flesh of one palm. The skin was already raw, pockmarked by red, half moon indentations.

“Stop doing this to yourself,” Ren hissed, capturing the reddened palm in his. The general’s narrow frame jerked, and Hux’s face snapped on him with an expression of indignation.

“What am I to you?” he snarled, blanched, and then offered instead: “What is it to you, what I do?” Hux jerked the hand away from Kylo’s, tucked them safely beneath his arms. He was out of uniform, wearing only black sweatpants and a black t-shirt, meaning he’d intended to go to bed.

That was, in fact, where Kylo had expected to find him, for the hour was late and he had sought the general’s comfort. Such as it was: nails in his back, teeth upon his shoulder. Enough pleasure and pain in the immediate to drown out the existential.

“Do you… want to be alone?” Ren stumbled over the words in the wake of Hux’s hostility, and the thoughts he’d arrived with which were ill-fitting in this moment.

Hux’s lips parted at that question, and then his copper brows slammed down over blood-shot green eyes. “It’s too goddamned late for that, isn’t it?”

Ren had meant it as another type of question. Not the sort that implied he’d slink out the door to appease the general, for he was not the appeasing type, but actually attempting to gauge the enigmatic man’s feelings. Did Hux, in fact, really want to be alone, or did he too, want … need … something primal to drown beneath?

Ren frowned at him. “It’s not your fault,” he offered, earning a scowl.

“You,” Hux spat the word “…you used me, my war machine, my vision, like you’ve been playing dolls with an army, and for what? To lure your father here? Did you always know he would come? Did it solve all your daddy issues for you Ren?”

Rage bubbled to the surface, but Ren grit his teeth against it, sensing something from the general that over balanced it. _Failure. Weak. Lost._

Those were the same words Snoke had used to chastise Ren, not an hour before. Hux was feeling just as helpless as Ren in this moment, and there was something about it that stirred emotion that served to counterbalance his ire.

“Well?” Hux hissed with vitriol. “Say something.”

Ren shook his head, and instead turned his attention to the view screen. With a thought, he transformed the display into something he found calming. A red nebula, the endless, trackless density of space, wild with color encased in blackness. A mirror of his soul. He shifted, so that he was closer to Hux, who had still not turned to face him. Ren saw the general’s eyes flicker to the viewscreen, and Hux sucked in a breath to berate him, perhaps, but Ren put a hand out and caught the side of his face, long fingers beneath his jaw.

“Please, just stop talking,” he whispered.

“You fucking…” Hux began, but Ren swallowed the words with a kiss. At first, the general was tense, shoulders rigid, and still facing forward, but the knight was persistent. He traced the outline of Hux’s lips with his own, suckled at his bottom one, all the while applying the barest of pressure to the general’s jawline. Finally, Hux thawed, as slowly as a long and stubborn winter, until he allowed himself to be turned to face Ren.

The knight closed the space between them, and Hux’s lips opened to his kiss in gradients. Stilted, rote, and then finally, wanting, passionate, and then with the burn of need. The general’s arms unfolded and his hands slipped over Ren’s chest, hard pressure to his shoulders and jaw, and then fisted in his hair. Kylo’s own arms were around his waist, tight, and he let himself be swept away in this.

This. Whatever this was. He had come here for his own comfort, and found himself instead offering it. Thinking to himself as Hux unwound in the cocoon of their mutual wreckage, that whatever fate they now hurtled toward, they had at some indistinct moment become _not alone._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kyluxtrashcompactor


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